Page 24
We’re physical opposites in every way. Where I’m short, she’s tall. Where I’m soft and curved, she’s lean and angular. My hair can’t decide what it wants to be; hers knows exactly what it’s doing at all times. She’s got these bright green eyes that miss nothing, freckles scattered across her nose, and a smile that’s gotten her out of more speeding tickets than I can count.
She’s also my favorite person on the planet.
“Okay.” She sets down her glass and fixes me with that fierce reporter’s stare. “Let’s cut right to the chase. What’s going on? You sounded weird on the phone the other night.”
I take a tentative sip of my martini. “Where do I even start?”
“The beginning is traditional,” she snarks.
I scowl, but with a gulp, I fill her in on everything. Kir cornering me at my desk. His hands under my shirt and the things he said. And then Lukas appearing out of nowhere, though whether he saved me or damned me remains to be seen.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Jilly holds up a hand. “The hot younger one had his hand up your shirt?”
“That’swhat you’re focusing on?!”
“I’m a reporter, Rae,” she says primly. “I am simply trying to get the facts straight.” She gives me a royal waggle of the fingers. “Continue.”
I tell her about the job offer that wasn’t really an offer, the card with just a phone number. How Kir grabbed me in the hallway before I could leave and warned me about his father.
“‘He collects things he finds interesting,’” I repeat. “That’s what he said.”
“Creepy.”
“You’re telling me.”
I tell her about showing up Monday to find my desk gone. The weird interview with questions about cooking and sleeping and boyfriends. The fact that Lukas somehow knows exactly how much I owe for Gideon’s rehab.
“Theexactamount?” Jilly gawks. “That’s specific.”
“I know.”
“Like, suspiciously specific.”
“Iknow.”
She’s quiet for a moment as she thinks. I can practically see the gears turning behind her eyes.
“And what does the actual job entail?” she asks. “This ‘special project’?”
“That’s the thing! I have no idea. He won’t tell me. I just sit outside his office all day and wait for something to happen.”
Her perfect eyebrows point sharply downward. “We’ve gone from ‘specific’ to ‘weird.’”
“It gets weirder.” I lower my voice. “There was this meeting yesterday. A bunch of scary-looking guys in a room with no windows. They were talking about shipments and routes and crews. At one point, someone mentioned ‘the cleanup’ and everyone just nodded, like,yep, cleanup, totally normal.”
Jilly’s eyebrows climb. “‘The cleanup’?”
“I don’t know what it means,” I say. “But it didn’t exactly sound like they were talking about vacuuming the carpets, you know?”
She dabs at her lips with a cocktail napkin. “This all sounds shady as hell.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“If you know that, hon, why are you still there?”
I stare into my martini. The lone remaining olive bobs in the gin like a tiny life preserver. “I need the money, Jill. You know I need the money. Gideon’s treatment isn’t cheap and my savings are basically nonexistent.”
“There are other jobs, though.”
